


Looking x For x You

by Dionte



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Canon-Typical Violence, First Meetings, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Obsessive Behavior, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-29
Updated: 2019-03-29
Packaged: 2019-12-26 09:00:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18279956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dionte/pseuds/Dionte
Summary: A single meeting can change everything. It can haunt you with the hope that someday, somewhere, you'll meet again.





	Looking x For x You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KaisaSolstys](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaisaSolstys/gifts).



> Someone mentioned this in a comment, so I've been working on it for a while, but... the feeling behind it is very difficult for me to capture into words.

After he left Moritonio’s circus, Hisoka was always searching. Whether it was for thrills, for challenge, for something more, he didn’t know. He just knew he was. And he didn’t know when or if he would find it.

 

But he thought he might be close.

 

It started when he saw the dead guards outside of a tall building. He felt his heart pound and slipped inside, only to find more. He followed the trail of corpses up to the CEO’s office and opened the door. The room was basked in the warm colors of sunset, and a man sat behind the desk- head thrown back and large gold pins extending from every surface.

 

There was someone else, a boy- probably- who was smaller than him with black hair that tickled the base of his neck. Hisoka could see the glint of the needles in his hand as the killer turned to face him. Black eyes that seemed to swallow the light met his own, and he tilted his head tilted to the side as he considered Hisoka.

 

The light of the sunset outside dyed his ivory skin golden, and Hisoka knew this image would be forever etched in his mind.

 

There was only one thing he could think to say.

 

“Beautiful. ♢”

 

Maybe it was the light, but he swore he saw pink dusting the killer’s cheeks. Mindless, he moved forward, hand outstretched to make sure this vision was real. But the killer suddenly vanished- gone into the shadows- and Hisoka was left bereft. The only sign there had even been someone in the room was the corpse lying in the chair.

 

He didn’t know if it was what he had been searching for, but he’d found something. Now he just had to find it again.

 

* * *

 

The contract had been easy. His first time taking the lead in an assassination, and nothing had strayed from plan. Except for the boy.

 

_Beautiful._ ♢

 

Illumi couldn’t get the word out of his head. The breathless way it was uttered, the fascination, the awe.

 

No one had spoken of his work that way before.

 

His heart was pounding, and the boy’s golden eyes flashed in his mind, his dyed hair, and then the word, again. Illumi shook his head, pushing the memory away.

 

_Beautiful._ ♢

 

The voice stayed.

 

He returned to his father, who’d waited for him outside. The head of the Zoldyck family, who’d finally approved of his first solo mission. He couldn’t disappoint. He wouldn’t disappoint.

 

“How did it go?”

 

Illumi straightened. “Perfectly.”

 

His father nodded. “Then it’s time to go.”

 

He didn’t need to hear his father say he did good to know it.

 

_Beautiful._ ♢

 

And if his father noticed how Illumi’s breath stuttered, he said nothing.

 

* * *

 

Hisoka chased after the shadow of a killer.

 

He didn’t have a name for who he sought, but he knew he sought them. The boy with dark eyes. He saw him everywhere, but when he caught up and spoke, they would turn, and he would realize his mistake. The boy was everywhere, but it was never really the boy. They may have smooth black hair, but no one had those eyes. No one affected Hisoka as profoundly as he had.

 

Once, as he bathed, he watched the water spill out from the cup he’d formed with his hands. He thought it was fitting. Frustrating.

 

It made him want to spill something else. He grabbed a set of cards on a whim, hardening them with nen to cut through soft flesh and found the toughest guy in town. Some gang leader who loved to tussle and fight. He laughed when Hisoka challenged him, and Hisoka smiled as that pride broke down, as he collapsed on the ground like the pathetic wretch he was, begging for life.

 

And Hisoka killed him, making a mess of blood while he laughed at the world itself.

 

Yet what he sought eluded him.

 

The blood shone, and he thought of the needles. He moved to a new town, and thought of how he could possibly attract the attention of the boy with dark eyes. He bought needles, found a challenging opponent, and left them punctured from every surface. It wasn’t as beautiful as the scene the boy had made, but it served well enough.

 

He dreamed of blood, of covering the boy in it and kissing him, of looking in those dark eyes and seeing his own reflected in them. When he woke from the dream, his heart was pounding and the boy wasn’t there. The boy wouldn’t be there, and Hisoka decided he would find him, no matter how long it took and no matter how far he had to search.

 

* * *

 

Illumi was always surrounded by family.

 

If there was something beyond that, he didn’t know. He worked in the family business, spent all his spare time taking care of siblings and training, but sometimes... Sometimes he yearned. He would sit and look out at the sunset, and think about that boy. He couldn’t remember his appearance anymore, only his voice, but by himself he could indulge. He could remember what it felt like to have his heart pound in pleasure.

 

Then he would return home- where his mother would poison him, his father would train him, and one brother was forced to torture him while the others slept.

 

He became strong. He became smart. He learned to bend but never, ever, break. And by himself, he would think the colors of the sunset reminded him of something.

 

No one ever learned his secret. Perhaps if they had been curious enough they would have realized, but to his family, it was simply something Illumi was. Illumi was the oldest. He was strong, quiet, loyal, and he liked to look at the sunset.

 

Illumi had once thought about telling Milluki. He came close when delirious from torture training. He’d told Milluki he just wanted to be called beautiful again. Milluki had immediately ended the session, and secretly informed Illumi about it later.

 

That moment of weakness could very well be the reason Milluki was protective of him. Milluki knew he was strong, of course, but he’d seen Illumi at his weakest, he’d seen Illumi when he was overwhelmed with emotions.

 

He remembered the day Milluki had burst into his room at some dark hour of the night, eyes wide and desperate. Illumi had followed him to his computer, and watched, tired, as Milluki pulled up an article of a murder.

 

He stared at it for a moment, still blinking sleep from his eyes, until he realized the picture reminded him of something. It looked like one of his scenes. Sure, he could tell the cause of death was different, these needles had drawn blood, and the man didn’t seem like a target for their work, but it was close enough.

 

“Do you have a copycat?”

 

_Beautiful._ ♢

 

Illumi shook his head. Impossible. And yet the voice was back, and he felt like this was a letter to him, to say he wasn’t the only one who’d been affected. His chest grew warm, and he was glad for the cover of night, because he felt his cheeks heating.

 

It was foolish to feel so flattered.

 

* * *

 

Desire. Necessity. These were the two things that pulled Hisoka into action. He would follow his desires to the ends of the world, and he was intimately aware of them. Of course, this also caused the opposite. If he had no desire to do something, he simply wouldn’t do it, no matter what threats followed. There was only one threat that he took seriously, and it was to his freedom.

 

He had to leave the city. The police were capable and fast, and they got his description from the store he’d bought all the needles from. So Hisoka had to move. He didn’t mind moving, but his desire asked for just one more day. One more walk by the alley. So he followed it.

 

A boy with dark hair and eyes passed by him.

 

Hisoka didn’t notice until he reached the end of the street. Then his eyes widened and he twisted around to give chase, but the ghost was already gone.

 

Hisoka was in awe. He’d confronted so many people with dark hair, every one he saw had garnered his attention, and yet the one he truly sought could pass by unnoticed. He hid his presence so thoroughly that even Hisoka didn’t notice.

 

It made Hisoka smile and shiver, and fantasize of the day he’d catch him.

 

He _wanted_ to catch him.

 

He did research, learned who the strongest were. Assassins, warriors, thieves. He stole and fought his way to different cities, hoping to attract their attention or glean another morsel of information. And in the end, he made a home in an arena. He could fight fledglings or warriors, and search for the strong between matches.

 

Sometimes some fascinating applicants found their way there. He once watched a boy with light hair get dropped off by his brother. A boy- or rather, a man- with short black hair. He watched, but didn’t approach. The kid’s eyes were blue. And he wanted to approach, to look at the brother closer, see if his eyes were black, but he didn’t.

 

He didn’t.

 

He watched as the brother left.

 

He thought about following, but instead he thought the boy. His boy. Had his boy grown? Did his boy have a family?

 

He didn’t know.

 

He didn’t even know the boy’s name.

 

* * *

 

Illumi enjoyed having a structured life. If something happened, if something changed, it threw off his rhythm. For the first few days after Killua had left for training, his world was strange. Killua’s presence no longer permeated the house. And with the needle implanted in him, Killua seemed seemed to have forgotten Alluka as well, and their family followed his lead.

 

It was like the world had started rotating in reverse. Everyone acted like it was the same, but something was inherently different.

 

Illumi wasn’t sure how much he liked being home anymore.

 

He used contracts to escape, spending more time out in the world, sleeping in hotels, abandoned houses, and occasionally even digging a hole for himself. The only comfort he really found was in the sunset. Even as his family’s machinations dug at him, the sunset was the same.

 

Still, he found himself yearning for some form of comfort, some person, so he decided to check on the chosen brother as he fought his way up the floors of the tower. He said nothing about his visit, gave no sign of his attendance, but he watched little Killua’s fighting. Illumi wondered if he was the same at that age. Then he frowned. Impossible. Killua was the heir, the child of greatest potential in the Zoldyck family.

 

He was not.

 

His form, his strength would not compare.

 

But someone had thought his kill was beautiful. His heart fluttered, and he left before Killua finished his bundle of matches for the day.

 

Killua was not who he wanted to see.

 

He didn’t know who he wanted to see.

 

He saw glimpses of a match happening in the upper floors on the screens, and for a moment, he stopped to watch. A man with pink hair was bewildering his opponent with a cruel but pleased smirk. His eyes were gold, and Illumi was thrown for a moment. They made him think of the sunset. There was just something comforting about it.

 

The man seemed to enjoy the match, and when he left his opponent dead on the ground, Illumi left the tower. He liked living a structured life, but he had to admit there was something appealing, even enviable, about the freedom that man seemed to have.

 

Not that it mattered.

 

* * *

 

Attention.

 

Hisoka loved having it. Love or disgust, amazement or terror, it didn’t matter. He loved causing reactions. Sure, he could care less about what some poor pitiful creature thought of his skills, but he liked having their attention anyway.

 

He was a showman.

 

And if his acts attracted the attention of some interesting audiences, all the better.

 

A man with dark hair and eyes approached him. He wore a St. Stephen’s cross on his brow and offered Hisoka a position in the spiders.

 

Hisoka had smiled and accepted.

 

But for how much this man reminded him of the boy, it was all wrong. His eyes held too much light. He didn’t use needles to kill. He worked with his troupe like a well greased machine. When he killed, Hisoka still thought it was beautiful, but he wasn’t the boy. The boy killed with his own power, not ones he’d borrowed from others.

 

He’d still love to challenge Chrollo one day.

 

For now, the spiders were a magnificent source of information. He pried and listened, made some reluctant allies and enemies, and let nothing slip about his own interests and allegiances. The most fascinating story they had to tell was of Shizuku, a replacement member like himself.

 

Number eight originally belonged to a member who was assassinated.

 

Hisoka had heard the name Zoldyck before. He knew they were best at their job with legendary strength. A family of assassins who’d been in the business for generations.

 

He wondered if their children killed too.

 

So when Chrollo said they wished to make contact with a Zoldyck, Hisoka was willing to follow.

 

* * *

 

Illumi had always been a private person. He kept to himself for the most part, and much preferred it that way. That being said, he garnered a certain amount of attention for the simple fact that he was a Zoldyck. The eldest child of the Zoldycks.

 

Recently- though he was unsure of why- more people were seeking out the children of the Zoldycks. Milluki, Killua, Allu … No. Kalluto. Currently, they were all protected by the walls of the Zoldyck estate. He was not, with how often he was out on assignment. And though he would never let himself be seen- much less caught, he found it annoying.

 

He was an assassin, not a socialite.

 

So he changed his face. He’d disguised himself many times on missions, but now he was using it to travel in peace. He used his needles to freeze the disguise in place. His hair was short and the color of orchids, his eyes were red like blood, and his skin looked lifeless.

 

It was a far cry from his usual appearance.

 

He moved, and felt his muscles flex around the needles. Even the simplest movements felt jerky and mechanical and he could lean into the idea, let himself appear more as a machine than a human. Let it be a surprise when he moved like a snake for a kill.

 

He hesitated.

 

_Beautiful._ ♢

 

He wished he could hear that voice in person, and not just in his head. He wanted to be found. But he only wanted to be found by one person.

 

So he called his alias Gittarackur.

 

Then he discovered who’d been seeking him. He saw the man from the arena and a woman with matching hair. They were scanning the crowd, lazily chatting with each other as they sought Illumi. It was too bad for them, but they could only find Gittarackur now.

 

Still, he listened in on their conversation, about their leader, about him, about the spider. He was surprised. His father had mentioned the strength of the spiders, but he hadn’t mentioned that they might be searching for him. And to think, the man from the arena was a spider himself… Thank goodness Killua had finished his training there. No Zoldycks were left to be found in the arena.

 

He watched them a moment longer, and left.

 

* * *

 

Hisoka believed in high risk, high reward.

 

Nothing was better than the thrill of victory over impossible odds. He looked forward to his eventual fight with Chrollo. Because it would happen. He would make sure of it.

 

But for now, he was going to win their little challenge. The spiders had a bet going on over who would find Illumi Zoldyck first. With careful appraisal of the family and some browsing of information provided by Shalnark, they’d found he’d be the easiest to find. Or rather, to get to. So everyone was searching for him. He and Machi had come close once, he was sure. Which was why he had to resort to another method.

 

He called a hit. It was expensive, and the other spiders refused to do it, for various reasons. The money, how it was ‘cheating,’ overinflated pride. But Hisoka thought, if the Zoldycks have a website where you can request an assassination with a specific assassin, well. Why not?

 

So he chose some random piece of scum, paid the fee with a reminder to fight some more matches in Heaven’s Arena- though if he won this bet, he’d be making a pretty penny. Then he followed the target he gave and waited.

 

And waited.

 

He felt the hairs on the back of his neck raise, and he burst into the room his target had last been in. The man was there, dead and stuck full of pins. Hisoka felt his heart pound. He had wanted to find Illumi Zoldyck, but now he had to find him.

 

Hisoka ran.

 

There was a man walking, and Hisoka grabbed him by his shoulder.

 

“Have you seen someone with dark hair and eyes pass by here? ♠”

 

“... No.”

 

He wanted to run off, but found himself staring at the man he’d stopped. Needles were stuck in his face, of a similar style to the ones that had killed the man Hisoka had chosen as a target. But were they the same as from all those years ago? He could no longer recall.

 

“Who are you? ♣”

 

The needles embedded in him clattered. “Gittarackur.”

 

Hisoka wondered if he was telling the truth, but in that single moment of distraction, the man vanished. It brought a grin to his face, because whoever the man was, he was interesting.

 

Later it seemed the spiders caught onto his plan and teased him about it. Though, some were appreciative of his idea. So he kept his eyes out for them, and when Shalnark mentioned staking out a building, Hisoka took action as well. He staked out the airport. This time, he was looking for needles.

 

Hisoka barely noticed when he arrived, so perfect was his zetsu. But Hisoka had perfected his instincts. He grinned, and he kept his place even as the man left. He waited. And the man eventually returned. Hisoka approached him.

 

“Hello. ♡”

 

“Do you make a habit of accosting random people going about their business?”

 

“How about a little chat, Gittarackur? ♣” Then Hisoka leaned forward, whispering maliciously. “Or should I call you Illumi? ♠”

 

Gittarackur clattered, gave Hisoka his full attention, and later that night, Hisoka won the bet of who could find Illumi Zoldyck first.

 

Now if only he could find the boy from his memories.

 

* * *

 

Illumi had long ago given up on the concept of friendship. He would never be worthy of it. Impossible.

 

And yet, somehow, he had had found something close.

 

From their first conversation, Illumi had been impressed with Hisoka. He’d managed to catch him, after all. And when Hisoka had mentioned his little game with the rest of the phantom troupe, requested Illumi to prove Hisoka to be the winner, well. Illumi acquiesced.

 

It was strange.

 

He tried to return to life as normal, but something was different. A good different. Like the world was brighter.

 

So he avoided Hisoka. But no matter what he did, Hisoka found him. Over and over, Hisoka found him, talked to him, needled him with questions. If he didn’t know better, he’d almost think they’d met before. And his question that first day was like he knew what Illumi looked like outside of his disguise.

 

… It didn’t bother Illumi as much as it should have.

 

His family seemed to realize something had changed, but they never asked. Only Milluki gave him glances like he wanted to ask, but as long as he fulfilled his obligations, it didn’t matter. As long as it didn’t involve Killua, it was nothing they were concerned about.

 

He wished he cared, but he’d given up on receiving such affection from his family.

 

Hisoka loved to lavish him with praise though. Called him elegant, powerful, talented, had been obviously aroused during a spar together- and Illumi hadn’t known how to react.

 

He hadn’t been taught that.

 

It reminded him of that voice that echoed in his head, though Hisoka never used that particular word.

 

He wondered what would happen if Hisoka did.

 

It made him shiver.

 

How would Hisoka say it? Sultry, low? Would he say it with a gleam in his eyes? Illumi forced the thought from his mind, even as he stared at the sunset.

 

“What’re you thinking about, Illumi? ♣”

 

Illumi scoffed. “As if I’d tell you.”

 

Hisoka smirked. “I’m the only one you’d even consider telling. ♠”

 

Illumi froze because he was right. If only because Hisoka was the only person he talked to so freely. Still, he wouldn’t tell Hisoka what he’d just been thinking. Never. And Hisoka was fine with that. He knew Illumi was private, liked keeping some thoughts to himself.

 

They both kept some thoughts to themselves.

 

Illumi knew how often Hisoka stared at him in the light of the sunset. How he eyed the pins that kept the disguise in place with an almost bittersweet gaze. They didn’t talk about it. Hisoka knew Illumi liked his eyes, liked his compliments, but neither was willing to broach each other’s secrets.

 

And neither of them knew why.

 

It was something like friendship. There was something between them. But there was a wall, and Illumi didn’t know what would happen if it fell.

 

* * *

 

They were friends. Him and the assassin, Illumi Zoldyck.

 

Illumi would deny it, but Hisoka knew by the way one of his brothers sent him threats. By the way Illumi relaxed with him, however much was possible with all those needles stuck in him.

 

And yet, there was something missing. Perhaps it was Hisoka's search for the boy, or something Illumi was hiding, but there was something between them that was wrong. At first, Hisoka refused to approach it. It hadn't mattered, or rather, it mattered too much. Illumi reminded him of the boy, made Hisoka think that he'd simply vanish and their bond would shatter. Even if he knew better now. There was a reason he had the assassin's phone number after all.

 

But perhaps it was time to search after his true goal.

 

“Illumi, would you happen to know someone with dark hair and eyes? ♣”

 

The needles chattered, and Illumi faced him with an unreadable expression. “You asked something similar when we first met.”

 

Had he? He’d been so positive he could find the boy that night, only for it to have been the man in front of him. Gittarackur.

 

“I’ve been searching for him. ♠”

 

Illumi seemed hesitant. Considering. And wasn’t that interesting?

 

“I… May know someone.”

 

Hisoka’s attention snapped up, and he was spellbound as he watched Illumi’s hands move. He began to remove all the pins had been stuck in his face, and Hisoka felt the swell of nen. Illumi’s hair began to grow and darken, his face contorting as nen rippled across it. Hisoka could only stare in fascination. Illumi’s eyes smoothed out, and when he opened them, they were dark voids, and he knew why he couldn’t find the boy.

 

He’d already found him.

 

And yet, he thought, Illumi had never shown a reaction to him before. Perhaps Illumi didn’t remember. Perhaps that moment hadn’t been as important to him as it was to Hisoka.

 

Hisoka wouldn't let Illumi forget him this time.

 

He pulled Illumi close and kissed him, swallowing the confused noise he made. He leaned forward, forceful but gentle, and preened when Illumi finally moaned. He felt Illumi begin to melt under him, and his heart was bursting. He’d always imagined this. Imagined kissing the one he’d sought for so long.

 

He pulled back to look at Illumi. The reality far outstripped his greatest fantasies. The dark eyes, the long black hair. Illumi’s lips were beginning to swell, and they looked delicious.

 

“Beautiful. ♢”

 

And Illumi reacted.

 

Wide-eyed confusion. Disbelief. He looked away, but Hisoka could still clearly see a faint blush rising in Illumi’s cheeks.

 

Hisoka felt hope budding in his chest.

 

“Beautiful~ ♡” He repeated.

 

That brought Illumi’s stare back to him, stunned. He blinked. Hesitated.

 

“Was it you?”

 

It seemed Illumi was unable to articulate his question further, but Hisoka knew what he was referring to.

 

So Hisoka pulled him close, wrapping himself around a tense Illumi as he said, “I finally found you~ ♡.”

 

And Illumi released a long breath. He seemed to relax, and Hisoka had to wonder if Illumi had wanted to be found all along.

 

* * *

 

Illumi liked sunsets. And he found himself surprised by how much he liked Hisoka.

 

Hisoka, who- because of seeing Illumi framed by the sunset- had searched for years to find him again. Him. Illumi. The Zoldycks were just his family, Killua just his brother. It was nice. He’d found a place he found more comfortable than home. A place where the world was right.

 

Hisoka was draped over Illumi’s back, smirking like the cat who got the canary.

 

He didn’t mind the idea.

 

Hisoka had chosen him. Over all the people he’d challenged over the years, all the people he had yet to challenge, Illumi had already won. He had chosen Illumi as his favorite. And perhaps he should have been worried, perhaps Hisoka's affection should have raised some red flags, but he liked it.

 

They would watch the sunset together, and Hisoka would talk about the sun coloring Illumi’s skin, saying that it reminded him of the day they met- how Illumi had looked like an angel of death in the fading sunlight. Illumi called him a sentimental fool, to which Hisoka retorted that he was one as well.

 

This was true. Because he loved sunsets, yes, but it was only because they had always reminded him of Hisoka’s eyes.


End file.
